


Loving You

by frecklesarechocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 15,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of ficlets and drabbles that I post on my <a href="http://deanhugchester.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a>, archived here. The rating is explicit because some of them will warrant that rating, while others will not. YMMV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean loves waking up before Cas. He loves watching Cas sleep, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the small smile that is always on Cas’s face these days, knowing that Dean is part of the reason that smile is there. Dean also thinks that turnabout is fair play. The number of times that Cas watched him when he was sleeping, well, it’s Dean’s turn now.

Cas sleeps with intent, much the way he does just about everything. There is a drive to it, an intensity that Dean loves to watch, especially now that Cas does sleep. He buries his head as far into the pillow as he can, scrunches his eyes shut, and is usually asleep as soon as he’s comfortable. Dean is left to fit himself into whatever position Cas is in, sliding his arms up Cas’s torso, slipping his knee between Cas’s thighs so he can tangle their legs together. Most nights Dean falls asleep as the big spoon, wrapped around Cas’s back, only to wake in the morning to find that they have rolled over in the night, and Cas is now draped over his back, arms clasping him close. 

Dean usually settles into Cas’s chest more deeply on those mornings, feeling warm, comfortable and safe. He never realized how lost, how adrift he felt before the first few nights sleeping, really sleeping, with Cas. So when he wakes, he does his best to hold onto that feeling as long as he can. Once Cas wakes, there are kisses and nuzzles and whispered words, and Dean loves, loves, loves that too, but there is something special about those quiet moments before, where time seems to stop, the outside world doesn’t matter. All that matters is the space they share, the angel in his arms and the feeling of home. It’s these moments, when he’s the only one awake that he can maybe finally admit to himself that this is real, that Cas really does love him, that all the words and gestures and touches are true. It’s these moments that Dean can think that what they have is good and maybe long-lasting, maybe, maybe permanent.

The moments are fleeting, though, because usually, not long after Dean wakes, Cas’s eyes flick open slowly, revealing eyes dark still with sleep, maybe dreams. The small smile on his face grows as he sees Dean hovering above him, his head propped on his elbow on the pillow next to Cas’s head. Cas mumbles something that might be, “Good morning," but is just as likely to just be some sort of grumble about the earliness of the hour. For an angel who never needed sleep before, Cas grew fond of it awfully quickly. Dean grins down at Cas, and leans in for a kiss that turns into one more, two, three, and then he loses count.

For his part, Cas loves waking up and seeing Dean staring down at him. He loves it because of the smile that is not just on Dean’s face, but the one that’s in his eyes. As long as Cas has known Dean, his eyes have been sad, burdened, filled with pain, and so old. Each morning Dean’s eyes are a bit younger, a lot happier and there’s less pain behind them. Cas knows he can’t take full credit for it, much of that goes to Sam and Amelia and baby Henry, and to this place that they can now call their home. But as he looks up at Dean, as they kiss in the mornings, clasping their fingers together, he’s just so glad that he can share this with Dean, these moments where it’s just the two of them, and none of the other stuff, the crap that they said and did to each other, none of the stuff that was thrust upon them by fate, angels, demons, even God. 

None of that has a place there in their bed, where they are snuggled together each and every night, waking in each other’s arms each and every morning.


	2. Objects Want Only to Drag Themselves Along

Every Saturday morning, Dean wants to sleep in. And every Saturday morning, Cas drags him out of bed and into the sunlit kitchen, shoving a cup of coffee into his hands before his eyes are even open.

"Cas, we’ve talked about this," Dean says as he sips his coffee, bleary-eyed.

Cas looks up from his spot on the other side of the kitchen table and smiles over his own mug of coffee. “Yes. But I’ve chosen to ignore it."

Dean sighs. There’s only so much you can do when it comes to trying to change the mind of an angel of the Lord, this one in particular. Dean’s found that Cas tends to get what he wants most of the time.

Well, okay. Mostly because usually Cas asks at the right moments.

Like when his mouth is wrapped around Dean’s cock.

It’s really, really, really hard to say no to Cas when he does that thing with his tongue.

Dean sighs. “What’s on today’s agenda, then?"

"Cleaning."

Dean splutters. “What do you mean, cleaning? We did that last weekend."

Cas puts his mug down on the table and leans forward, clasping his fingers together. “We cleaned the house. We have to clean out the attic."

"Jesus, Cas, do we have to?" Dean knew he was beginning to sound like a petulant child, but it was the weekend for crying out loud. The weekend is for lazing about in bed as long as possible, and then maybe getting up and moving to the couch. Then there might be a cookout and some beer.

The weekends are not for cleaning out the attic.

"We do, Dean. There’s a lot of stuff up there that needs to be organized."

Dean tips his eyes toward the ceiling, knowing that he probably did agree to this earlier (the thing with the tongue, remember?). “Fine, Cas. But after that you’re gonna do what I want to do."

"Of course, Dean. Whatever you like."

Dean just snorts and finishes his coffee. He stands up and stretches. “Well, come on then, let’s get this show on the road." 

He changes into his oldest pair of jeans and a ratty old t-shirt that he probably should have thrown out about a year and a half ago. It’s got all kinds of holes in it, but for some reason, he’s kept it. Cas is similarly attired, but he’s wearing one of Dean’s old t-shirts. Dean can’t help but grin when he sees it - the shirt is just a little too big for Cas, who is lankier than Dean is. Dean grabs hold of the belt loops of Cas’s jeans and pulls him close. He kisses Cas, who sways into Dean for a moment, and then pulls away. Dean grunts unhappily, but Cas is already heading up to the attic.

"You can’t distract me, Dean," Cas tosses over his shoulder. 

"Whatever, dude. I could totally distract you if I really wanted to." Dean watches Cas ascend the ladder to the attic, appreciating the view of Cas’s ass, and then follows up the steps.

Cas places several lamps about the space and Dean realizes that Cas is right - the place is a jumble of boxes, trunks and other strangely shaped objects. Everything is coated in a fine layer of dust that has Dean’s nose tickling almost the second he gets up into the attic. It’s warm up there, and sunlight streams in from the lone window at the front of the house. Dust motes float about. Cas hands Dean a few rags and they start by dusting off every surface that they can reach.

They work silently for the most part, Dean occasionally humming beneath his breath, Cas sometimes joining in when he recognizes the song. They shift boxes about, label things and toss down an awful lot of stuff that will either need to be thrown out or taken to Goodwill.

Then there’s the pile of stuff that they can’t get rid of, either by tossing it in the trash or taking it to charity.

There are boxes and boxes of weapons. Most of them have been put away neatly, labeled and stacked carefully, ammunition kept separate from guns. Knives have been packed carefully away so that no unfortunate accidents can happen. Then there are the boxes filled with books. Most of the books were John Winchester’s - found in the old storage unit years ago. Dean’s skimmed most of them, but each time he’s thought about really going through them and cataloging what’s in them, he’s managed to find other things to do. 

There are so many memories in those books, and Dean’s really not sure whether he wants to dredge them up.

So they shove those boxes into a corner of the attic.

Finally, there’s one box left. Dean kneels in front of it, and notes that it’s just labeled “photos". It’s written in Bobby’s handwriting, and Dean swallows past the lump that’s formed in his throat. 

When he opens the box, he’s surprised to find piles and piles of loose photos. Some of the people in the photographs have been identified by name on the back. There are a whole bunch of Dean and Sam from when they were kids, photos that Dean doesn’t remember being taken, but the evidence is right there in front of him. Others are of a pretty blond woman smiling at the photographer. The backs of these all are marked “Karen". There are only a few pictures of both Bobby and Karen.

Beneath those are older pictures, some of Ellen and a very young Jo, plus a man that Dean doesn’t recognize. 

Toward the bottom are a few pictures that Dean didn’t know existed. John and Mary Winchester, Mary standing behind John, her arms thrown around his neck. They’re smiling at the camera, looking impossibly young. John’s face is lit up with an expression that Dean has never, ever seen on his father’s face. There are a few pictures of Mary, pregnant, her hand flung out toward the photographer, as if she was trying to prevent her picture from being taken. The backs of those just say “Mary, 1978". 

Dean sits down heavily on the floor, holding the pictures in his hands, cradling them really, and stares. “Cas, where did this box come from?"

Cas comes over and settles into a crouch next to Dean. “I don’t know. It was with a whole bunch of stuff that you and Sam moved in." Cas looks at the photos in Dean’s hands. “Your mother was beautiful."

"Yeah," Dean says, unable to say anything else. He continues to stare at the photos, his mouth dry. He can feel the prickling of tears in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to break down, doesn’t want to sit up here in this dirty, dusty old attic and cry like an idiot over pictures that until just now he hadn’t even known existed.

Cas seems to sense this, and he gently takes the photos from Dean’s hands. Dean lets them go, and watches carefully as Cas places them back in the box. He picks up the box and heads towards the stairs. “I think we’re finished up here, don’t you?" Cas says, and tilts his head toward the downstairs. Dean stands up wordlessly and follows.

Cas puts the box down in the kitchen and pulls out the photos one by one. They begin to silently organize them into different piles based on subject (John and Mary, Bobby and Karen, Sam and Dean, etc.). It takes them a very long time, mostly because Dean stops every now and then and closes his eyes, breathing heavily, fighting back tidal waves of emotion. Cas just stands next to him, his hand warm and heavy on the nape of Dean’s neck. He’ll squeeze gently after a few minutes, and Dean will nod. Then they’ll go back to organizing the photos.

Finally, they’re all organized. 

"We should let Sam know about these. In case he’d like to have some of them," Cas says eventually.

"Yeah," Dean says, his voice rough with emotion. “Do you think…" Dean begins, but he can’t figure out how he was going to end the sentence, so he lets his voice trail off. 

Cas leans over and kisses Dean’s forehead. “What if we got frames for them? We could hang them in the hallway." Cas hesitates. “If you’d like."

Dean inhales a shaky breath and runs his hand through his hair. He can’t decide whether he wants to be able to look at all of these photos over and over, knowing that he’ll never get to see most of the people in them again. “I don’t know, Cas," he says finally.

Cas pulls Dean into his arms and hugs him tightly. “Okay. We don’t have to decide now."

"Okay," Dean says. “Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PWP. Not sorry.

"Cas," Dean gasps. He’s incapable of any other word. All his senses are assaulted by Cas - his scent, the weight of him pressing down on his legs, his tongue, his mouth - Jesus FUCK, his mouth. Cas is trailing his lips down Dean’s torso, licking and nipping as he goes. He’ll focus his attention on one spot, take his time, suck at the skin and then let it go again with a soft kiss. He moves lower, hovering over Dean’s hipbones, fingers dipped just beneath the waistband of Dean’s jeans, maddeningly still.

Dean writhes beneath Cas, desperate for more, desperate for Cas to move his hands, to just fucking touch him already, but the angel has other plans. He leaves his hands where they are and kisses back up Dean’s body to his chest, where he sucks in first one nipple, then the other. He worships Dean’s body and revels in every gasp and groan that he can pull out of Dean.

"Come on, Cas," Dean says. “Please, please, Cas, fuck." The words are breathy and hoarse.

"Shh," Cas says, and he leans up to capture Dean’s mouth with his own. He kisses slowly, his tongue sweeping in, commanding and sure as it swoops around Dean’s tongue. Dean grips the sheets tightly between fingers that are white with the strain of trying to hold back from grabbing Cas and manhandling him where he wants - needs - Cas to go. He whimpers as Cas pulls away from his mouth, lingering just above Dean for a moment before resuming his worship of Dean’s chest and belly.

He nips sharply at Dean’s pudge, rubbing his chin along it softly before moving around Dean’s belly button with feather light kisses. Dean groans loudly, no longer caring if Sam and Kevin can hear from the other rooms in the bunker, he just needs Cas to get on with this, to stop teasing and just do something already.

"Cas, come on," Dean says again, panting, and he feels rather than sees Cas’s wicked smile as he sucks at Dean’s hips, now angling his mouth underneath Dean’s jeans. Fuck yes, he’s finally on the right trail, Dean thinks, and then groans again when Cas leans up again and presses their bodies together, pushing Dean down into the memory foam.

"Dean," Cas says, and his voice is even deeper and huskier than usual, and it sends a zing towards Dean’s groin and he can’t help the sounds that come out of his mouth, he really can’t.

"Cas," Dean’s voice is barely a whisper.

"You’re beautiful, Dean," Cas says, and he presses his face into Dean’s neck, sucking at the tender skin there, his hair tickling Dean just beneath the jawline. And finally, finally, Cas is fumbling with the button on Dean’s jeans and pulling down the zipper oh-so-slowly that Dean thinks he’s going to come right then and there, right as Cas’s fingers graze lightly against his cock through his boxers.

"Cas, Cas, please, please!" Every single part of him is tingling, aching for release, but Cas is doing his best to keep it just out of reach, to keep Dean teetering just on the edge.

Cas presses his mouth to the shell of Dean’s ear and whispers to him; some of the words Dean can’t make out, some of them must be in another language - Enochian? - and Cas’s hands are pushing Dean’s boxers down and his cock is springing out into the open air just beside Cas’s hip, and Dean sucks in a hiss because he realizes that the angel is still wearing pants, that he’s still almost entirely clothed.

Cas takes him in hand, and begins to jack him slowly, achingly slowly, but when Dean tries to push his hips up into Cas, tries to accelerate the motion, Cas bites softly on Dean’s earlobe. “Not just yet, Dean."

"Cas," and the sibilant is more of a hiss than anything else, the end of the word drawn out and nearly tortured, and Dean’s babbling now, all kinds of things that he can’t even keep track of. “Cas, please, please, please, Cas, fuck." Dean’s nearly at the edge, nearly toppling over.

Cas senses this and presses a bruising kiss to Dean’s mouth before returning back to the side of Dean’s head where he whispers one last time, “Now, Beloved, come for me now." Cas twists his hand and Dean sees stars and is falling, falling, a shuddering mess. Cas’s face is buried in his shoulder and Dean thinks he might be crying. Cas lifts his head to kiss Dean once again and smiles down at Dean, who smiles stupidly back. 

"I love you so much, Cas," Dean says so quietly that it might not have been audible were it anyone other than Cas.

Cas just smiles as he settles into Dean’s side. “I love you too, Dean. Always."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean scrubs the back of his neck with his right hand, the left hidden behind his back. Cas peers at him, his eyes squinting a little bit. “Dean?" he asks.

Dean coughs. “Yeah, uh, I got you." Dean thrusts forward his left hand. “I got you these flowers." The bouquet is a small one, just a few flowers, but they’re a riot of color, blues, reds, yellows, and oranges. And none of that baby’s breath shit either.

Cas takes the bouquet in his hand. “Um. Thank you, Dean." He has no idea why Dean got him the flowers. Dean looks incredibly uncomfortable. He’s staring at the floor, the wall behind Cas’s head, anywhere that isn’t Cas. Cas wonders if there’s something he’s supposed to do now, something that he doesn’t know about because he’s an angel, not human, and it’s not like they had training for this when he was in the garrison.

Finally, Dean raises his head and looks Cas square in the eye. “I’m just glad you’re back, that’s all." He hesitates a second, and then presses his lips to Cas’s, a light kiss, really, and then backs away. He nods once and leaves the room as quickly as his feet can take him.

Cas presses his fingers to his lips where Dean kissed him and smiles. It’s a step in the right direction.


	5. Chapter 5

But really, it shouldn’t be that difficult, Castiel thinks. All he should really have to do is just… move a little closer. Step into his personal space, it’s not like he hadn’t done it before or anything. Cas is quite familiar with Dean’s personal boundaries, since Dean has been spelling them out for years.

So he knew where they started and where they ended.

So it should be simple, right?

Just step right on in there, take a small breath, and…

But that’s kind of where Castiel’s ability to think clearly ends. Where his ability to see himself taking that final step, to see himself sealing the deal is completely lacking.

Cas isn’t exactly sure if that’s because he can’t do it, or if he, in the end, won’t.

He drops his head to the table with a soft sigh and, for lack of anything better to do, bangs his head against it a couple of times.

It doesn’t help.

So, he tries again. He pictures Dean in his mind, his freckles, his bright green eyes, those beautiful lips covering those perfect white teeth (and one of these days Cas will find the time to ask how Dean managed to keep his teeth so beautiful with all those years on the road). He pictures Dean’s face with that silly little smirk he gets when he thinks he’s being funny (he isn’t), or that stern, worried look he gets when he’s thinking about Sammy (or Cas, but Cas doesn’t always know that).

Then Cas pictures the soul beneath all that, beneath the trappings of Dean’s admittedly beautiful exterior, and that is more beautiful still. The soul, which is blinding in its brightness, in its certainty of what is right and what is not. For all that Dean professes to not know the answers, his soul does.

Cas closes his eyes and pictures himself standing next to that soul, his grace humming with the pleasure of the closeness, the proximity to that glorious soul. And he pictures himself leaning forward, into Dean’s personal space, feeling the soft exhale of Dean’s breath upon his own face, and then —

"Hey, Cas, what’s going on?" Dean comes into the library and plops down on the seat next to him, throwing his legs up onto the table. The library echoes with the sound of steel toed boots hitting wood, and Cas groans. Because it was hard enough thinking about this when the object of his thoughts was elsewhere, but here, in front of him? Yeah, that wasn’t going to make this entire situation easier.

"Hello, Dean," Cas says, opting for his usual response, hoping that Dean will eventually tire of him and leave him alone to figure this whole thing out.

It never even occurred to him that this was the perfect opportunity.

It’s not like he’d never kissed anyone before. It’s not like he didn’t know what to do intellectually. He had a full array of knowledge on how human sexuality worked, and he was fully prepared to put his knowledge into action (okay, he was dying to, there were things he’d been thinking about doing with Dean for what felt like forever, and…).

But when confronted with the real thing, he somehow felt that he couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Dean takes a final bite out of the apple he’s eating, and then tosses it over his head into the trash can in the corner of the room. “How come your head is on the table, man? You feeling okay?" Dean sounds worried, it’s a little bit like the voice he’s been using to talk about Sam lately, especially with the whole trials thing, but Cas doesn’t really notice the tone.

"Yes, I’m fine. Did you need something?" Cas asks.

Dean shrugs and grins. “Nope. Just hanging out today. Quiet out there right now, and Kevin’s hard at work on the next task, so not much to do. Wanna catch a movie?"

Cas lifts his head from the table and looks at Dean. “A movie?"

"Yeah. I think we can probably find a theater that’s still showing that new Bruce Willis Die Hard movie. John McClane is awesome, dude." Dean pulls out his cell phone and looks up the time for the movie. “Yep, there’s a showing in about an hour. The theater’s kind of far away, but if we hurry, we’ll only miss the previews."

Castiel thinks about this for a moment. A darkened movie theater. For upwards of two hours. With Dean.

It has possibilities. 

He smiles at Dean. “Sure."

"Awesome." Dean heaves himself up out of the chair and grabs Cas’s arm to get him up as well. “Let’s get this show on the road!"

Cas doesn’t even notice that Dean doesn’t let go of his arm until they’re in the Impala.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to [zatnikatel](http://zatnikatel.tumblr.com):
> 
> _Someone please write fic where fallen!Cas learns to knit to calm his nerves and he knits warm socks, gigantic sweaters, and endless scarves for Dean._

"Cas, what’re you doing?" Dean asks.

Cas looks up from the puddle of yarn in his lap. “Knitting you a scarf."

"Knitting? Me? A scarf?" Dean says, not at all certain how those four words got to be in the same sentence.

Cas sighs. “You never dress warmly enough." He lifts up the knitting to make sure the stitches are even, and nods, pleased with the result. The wool is a dark, forest green, and the scarf is going to be a nice long one. He’s been working on it for nearly a week now, but this is the first time Dean’s actually seen him working on it. 

"Yeah, but, a scarf? And since when do you knit?" Dean rubs at the bridge of his nose. Every day he learns something new about Cas.

"I’m teaching myself how to. The book said to start with a scarf because that was the easiest thing to make. And they’re right, it is. This will complement your complexion nicely, Dean."

Dean stares at Cas for a moment, nonplussed. What do you say to that, anyway? Dean shrugs mentally. He leans down and kisses Cas. “Thanks, Cas."

Yeah, there’s really only one thing to say.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mention of drinking/alcoholism

Cas notices that Dean’s not drinking as much. He doesn’t say anything about it, not at first, because he wants to be sure. It’s not that he’s judging Dean about his drinking either way, but when he notices the absence of the drinking, he thinks back to the year before Purgatory and remembers how much drinking Dean did.

And that’s just when he was around, which was admittedly, not that much.

Cas wonders, then, how Dean managed to stop drinking so much. Because while Cas may not know a whole lot about being human, he does understand the nature of addiction. He watched Sam descend into a spiral of demon blood addiction. He’s watched countless humans destroy themselves through addiction. And he had watched Dean’s drinking escalate since they met.

So he’s happy to see that Dean is drinking less.

It’s when he sees Dean choose to drink a soda one day after dinner that Cas decides to say something about it.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?" Dean responds, not quite paying attention. He’s got a magazine in his lap and there’s a pretty interesting article about the new Star Trek movie.

"When did you stop drinking?" Cas asks.

Dean looks up then, and frowns at the angel. “What do you mean?"

Cas shrugs a bit and points at the soda can next to Dean. “You used to drink whiskey after dinner. Or beer. Not soda. I was just wondering."

Dean looks at the soda can as if he’s surprised to see it next to him. “Not like there’s a whole lot of alcohol in Purgatory, Cas, you know that." 

"Was it, was it hard?" Cas asks, and he’s almost sorry that he’s asked the question, because Dean flinches a bit.

"Yeah, actually. The first few weeks in purgatory sucked." Dean looks at Cas pointedly. “For a lot of reasons."

"Dean," Cas says, but he’s not really sure what to say after that, because Dean is right, of course. Purgatory was so hard for Dean for so many reasons. He tries to swallow down the guilt that threatens to wash over him, and he manages. Just. “I am sorry, Dean. I’ve said that."

Dean tosses his magazine onto the table and moves next to Cas. “Yeah. You did. I don’t mean to be a dick about it, it’s just… hard, y’know?"

Cas is now forced to look up at Dean, so he can meet his eyes. “I understand. I just. I’m just glad that you’re not drinking as much as you used to. That’s all. Do you feel better?"

Dean considers the question for a few minutes before answering. “Yeah, I think so. There are lots of things that are making me feel better though."

"Like the bunker?"

Dean touches a finger to Cas’s cheek. “Yeah, sure. Like the bunker." He leans down and kisses Cas, licking the angel’s bottom lip. “And you," Dean whispers. Cas smiles and returns Dean’s kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean gets this little crease between his eyebrows when he frowns, which is pretty much all the time.

Cas has watched that crease deepen over the last four years, and when he finally ( _finally_ ) gets to kiss Dean, the next thing he does is press his lips to the space between Dean’s eyebrows, licking out slightly with the tip of his tongue.

Dean chuckles, an embarrassed huff of laughter, but Cas pulls away from Dean’s forehead to kiss him until he’s quiet. Then Cas returns his attention to Dean’s brow, kissing it softly, smoothing over the crease, his palms cupping Dean’s jaw, thumbs caressing Dean’s cheeks.

Cas ghosts soft kisses over Dean’s forehead, eyelids and nose, landing finally on his mouth, where he settles his mouth and basks in the feel of Dean’s soft lips beneath his. When he pulls away, the crease between Dean’s brows is gone, and instead, there’s a small smile on Dean’s lips, his eyes crinkled.

Cas smiles back at Dean and says, “I love to see you smile."

What he really means is, “I love you."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to [coffeeisoxygen, ](http://coffeeisoxygen.tumblr.com) who posted:
> 
>  
> 
> _Can we all just think about Dean watching Cas sleep_ (◡‿◡✿)

During waking hours, Cas was usually pretty vigilant about the way he moved - not exactly rigid, but definitely controlled. When he slept (and he sometimes did need to), all that control seemed to sag out of his body. He was like a starfish in bed, arms and legs flung out in all directions, head splayed on the pillow in whatever manner it had rested there.

Dean loved watching Cas sleep. He loved watching Cas take over the entire bed, letting go of all that control, all that marshaling of his vessel that he mustered during daylight hours. Awake Cas was a soldier, a body that took orders and followed them. Sleeping Cas, on the other hand, threw out the rule book, ignored all orders and just did whatever the heck he wanted to.

It was adorable as hell.

He would turn his head and nestle into the pillow, making soft smacking sounds with his lips. He’d let out soft, satisfied sighs, a half-hummed note of comfort and safety that Dean treasured whenever he heard it.

And in the mornings, he would have somehow navigated himself so that he was tangled up in Dean, arms and legs thrown about Dean like an octopus, creating a giant Cas blanket for Dean that was all angles, muscle and Cas. 

No matter how much of the bed Cas took up, no matter how much shifting around he did in the night, Dean never slept so well as when Cas was in his bed.


	10. The Springtime of My Loving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, don't know where the title came from. This is only cuz people kept demanding smut from me.

He’s beautiful like this, Dean thinks. He looks up at Cas, watching as Cas’s hand flies over his own cock, chest flushed and heaving. That he would ever have the opportunity to see this, to be here, lying under Cas, his angel, feeling warm, blissful and hazy from his own orgasm achieved just moments ago… this was an existence that Dean had never allowed himself to contemplate.

“Dean,” Cas breathes, and Dean can tell he’s close, can see as his hand falters slightly. Dean squeezes Cas’s ass with his right hand, encouraging him.

“C’mon Cas, you’ve got it. Right on me, c’mon,” Dean says, and that seems to be it, that’s what tips Cas over. He lets out a long moan as he comes. It lands in thick droplets on Dean’s face and chest, and Dean blinks. Cas continues to milk himself for another half minute or so, and then he lowers down to rest on Dean, chest to chest.

“Dean,” Cas says again. He kisses Dean tenderly, and Dean smiles into the kiss. But then Cas’s mouth is gone, and he’s slowly licking the come off of Dean’s face, his tongue drawing up Dean’s cheek. He returns for a kiss, and it’s salty and bitter, and so fucking hot that a small whimper escapes from Dean without his permission.

Cas licks all the mess from Dean’s face, alternating between his ministrations and soft kisses, occasionally pressing his lips to Dean’s jaw, his ear, whispering words of love. He ignores the droplets that are pressed between them where their chests slide together.

It’s tender and everything that Dean professes to hate in his waking hours. But right now he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed or angry. All he feels is safe and loved.

Cas finally finishes, and leans his forehead against Dean’s ghosting a final soft kiss on Dean’s nose.

“I love you,” Dean whispers.

Cas hums tiredly in response, a smile on his lips. He opens his eyes briefly and responds softly, “Me too.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitchen shenanigans.

Dean’s cooking dinner one night, shortly after Cas joins them in the bunker. There’s been some talk between the two of them, but nothing  _definitive._  Dean’s told Cas he’s glad that Cas is there, and Cas smiled in response, a small shy thing that makes Dean’s heart leap when he sees it. Cas murmured something that might be “me too," but it was so quiet and Cas was turning away at the time, so Dean couldn’t really be sure.

So when Cas comes into the kitchen to watch Dean cook, Dean doesn’t think anything of it, not really. Cas leans against the counter next to the fridge, and he’s just out of the way, so Dean goes about his cooking, and they don’t say anything to each other. 

It’s when Dean starts cutting up the yellow pepper that Cas moves a little closer. He plucks a piece of the brightly colored vegetable up off the cutting board and pops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he does. 

"Hey!" Dean says. He swats at Cas’s hand when it snakes out to grab another piece of pepper. “Don’t eat all that."

Cas just smiles and steps further into Dean’s space. “Smells good." He leans over, his chest brushing against Dean’s arm as he does. Dean’s arm breaks out in goosebumps, even though it’s a little warm in the kitchen because of all the cooking.

Dean licks his lips. “Thanks, Cas. Could you… could you step back a sec though?" Cas does as he’s asked, and Dean tries to return his attention to the pepper, but he is now hyper aware of Cas, who is still standing just inside Dean’s personal bubble. While Dean finishes chopping the pepper, Cas seems to float forward again until he’s right up against Dean’s arm again. 

"Cas?" Dean asks.

"Hm?" Cas replies absently. He leans over again, only this time he’s not investigating the food, he’s up close and personal with Dean’s neck. He brushes his lips lightly against Dean’s neck, and when Dean freezes, Cas presses his mouth more insistently in the same spot. “You smell good, too," Cas says, and it’s soft, just barely audible above Dean’s breathing, which seems to have sped up just a hair.

"Cas?" Dean asks again, his voice just above a croak. 

"Don’t mind me," Cas says, and he presses a series of kisses up Dean’s neck and his jawline. Their eyes are level now, and Dean can’t help but stare, and he swallows at what he sees in Cas’s eyes - there’s a  _hunger_ there that he hasn’t ever seen before. Cas smirks suddenly, and swings his arm around Dean’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. 

Dean grabs onto Cas’s t-shirt, needing to hold onto  _something_ , needing to ground himself. Cas tastes of pepper and something sweet that Dean can’t quite identify. Cas pulls away after a moment and licks his lips as if he’s tasting Dean on them, and he steps back. “I think your sauce is going to boil over," he says, pointing at the pot in question. 

"Huh?" Dean asks, and then he turns to see the first of a series of spatters of bright red tomato sauce flowing up over the top. He curses and grabs the pan and pulls it off the heat. “What the hell…. what was that, you little shit?" Dean asks when he’s turned off the burner.

Cas picks up another piece of pepper and shrugs as he walks away. “Got tired of waiting for you." He pops the pepper into his mouth and settles against the counter on the other side of the kitchen.

Inspired a little bit by [this](http://deanhugchester.tumblr.com/post/49279450771).


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to this prompt from [bowtiesarecoolsir](http://bowtiesarecoolsir.tumblr.com)
> 
> _they find a lost kitten in the rain on the way into the bunker after a hunt._

"Wait," Cas says, putting up his arm to block Dean. Dean sighs, because it’s raining out, he’s cold and wet, and it’s been a long, unproductive day. The spirit they’d been after had proven difficult to find.

"Cas, come on, I just want to go home, change out of these wet clothes and get into a hot shower. Preferably with you. Can we do that, please?"

Cas tilts his head to the side, one finger placed over his lips. “Shh."

"What, Cas, what is it?" Dean pulls his jacket closer around his body, despite the fact that it’s saturated. He’s really, really cold.

Cas ignores Dean and listens intently, his brow furrowing. He whips around and walks back the way they came, taking the umbrella with him and leaving Dean standing out in the open.

"Cas!" Dean yells, but Cas ignores him and disappears around a corner. Dean’s still debating whether or not to follow when Cas reappears, cradling something in the crook of one elbow.

"What is it, Cas?" Dean peers at whatever it is that Cas is holding, and - “Oh, hell no."

"What do you mean? This poor thing is freezing." The creature in Cas’s arms looks like an ugly rat, its fur wet and plastered to its skin. Its eyes are huge, taking up almost the entirety of its head, and it’s trembling.

"That’s a… what is that, is that a cat?" Dean asks. 

"Yes, Dean, it’s a cat. It’s a cold, wet cat, and it needs to be taken care of."

"What? No. We can’t take care of that." Dean considers walking away. Really he does, because it’s a cat, and it’s a stray, and who knows where it’s been.

"Why not, Dean? This cat needs our help. We have the space and we can take care of it."

Dean sneezes, a mild explosion. “First, because I’m allergic. Second, because it could have all kinds of diseases."

"Dean." Cas gives Dean a look that can only be described as  _disappointed_ , and Dean knows that he’s already lost. He probably lost the second Cas heard the cat meowing with his super angel hearing.

"Oh all right. But only until we can find it a proper home. We can’t keep it." Dean sneezes again.

Cas smiles and kisses Dean’s cheek. The cat, somewhat smooshed between the two, gives a small squeak, and Cas immediately pulls away from Dean to comfort the animal. Dean grimaces, because Cas had been pretty warm, and Dean had kind of wanted to lean into Cas a little bit. Cockblocked by a drowned cat. Great.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to a prompt from [cliffnotesofanerd](http://cliffnotesofanerd.tumblr.com).
> 
> _Dean getting up early the first morning Cas is in the bunker to make coffee for when Cas wakes up._

Dean wakes up with a feeling of excitement jumping around in his belly. At first he’s not sure why he feels like he imagines a little kid might feel when he knows that they’re going to an amusement park, but then he remembers.

Cas.

Cas is back with them, and through some miracle, even though he was a mess when they found him last night, by the time they got back to the bunker, he had managed to almost completely heal himself.

Cas was back, and he was in the bunker with them, and Dean had his family together. Well, almost. Charlie was out and about, doing her thing, but Cas and Sam? They were right here with him.

For the first time in what felt like years, Dean actually felt like getting out of bed. Like there was something he could look forward to. He hums softly to himself as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, and then heads out to the kitchen.

He stops for a quick peek into the room across the hall, where they’d settled Cas last night, and sure enough, the angel is still there. He’d burrowed under the blankets as he’d slept, and there was a mess of dark hair poking out from underneath. 

In the kitchen, Dean stands in front of the open fridge, trying to decide whether he wants to make a whole big breakfast, or if he just wants to make some coffee and wait until later for food. 

He opts for coffee, deciding that if Sam and Cas are hungry later, he can make pancakes. Still humming, he sets about making a pot of coffee, carefully measuring out the grounds and dumping them into the filter. He pushes the on button with a flourish and listens as the machine begins to gurgle and hiss as the water heats up.

The shuffle of feet against the floor catches Dean’s attention, and he turns around to see Cas hovering in the doorway.

"Hey, Cas," Dean says, grinning.

"Hello, Dean," Cas replies, and he returns Dean’s smile shyly. “Is that coffee?" 

"Yep. Want a cup? Freshly brewed." Dean grabs a mug from the cabinet before Cas has the chance to answer and pulls the carafe out of the machine. So yeah, he splurged on one of those coffee makers that stops brewing when you remove the pot. So sue him, he likes to get that first cup as soon as possible.

He pours a cup and hands it to Cas. “Milk? Sugar?" 

Cas just shakes his head and inhales the scent of the coffee before taking a tentative sip. His face brightens as he tastes the coffee. “That’s good."

"Don’t sound so surprised." Dean pours himself a cup and he gestures to the table. They both sit and drink their coffee in companionable silence for a few minutes. Dean breaks the quiet with a few soft words. “It’s good to see you."

Cas cradles his cup in his hands and smiles. “You too, Dean. You too." 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coda for 8.22

Maybe sometime after Dean and Cas  ~~fuck it out~~  deal with their shit, they’re out together one day, doing a little shopping for the Batcave. Dean remembers that he needs to buy some tp and some beer, so they stop in the convenience store on the way home, but it’s the same kid working the register, and he flips out when he sees Cas. “Oh no, not you! You get out of here!!" He yells, and Dean and Cas just look at each other all confused. The kid comes out from behind the register and tries to usher Cas out of the store.

"Dude, what the hell?" Dean asks, and Cas just shrugs. Meanwhile, the kid is yelling about how Cas needs to get out, and how the last time he was there he had to pay for the damages out of his own paycheck, and he couldn’t go anywhere for  _weeks_ because he had to work extra hours just to make it up,  _not to mention_  the fact that he had to replace his damn uniform shirt because Cas ripped it when he was pulling him over the counter to yell about the pie.

Cas, mortified, digs through his pockets looking for some cash, and he pulls out a couple of twenties and hands them to the kid, who is still yelling and waving his hands in the air. He looks at the money in Cas’s hand suspiciously, but grabs it and sticks it in his pocket. He’s slightly mollified, but he still points his finger at Cas and says, “Dude, just stay out of the store, okay? Just stay out, you’re a menace."

And Cas gets that kicked puppy look on his face and exits the store, leaving Dean inside to glare at the kid, who quails under Dean’s look. “What the hell was that all about, kid?"

The kid stammers through an explanation, and Dean just stands there, his mouth slightly agape, because he had  _no idea._  “He did what?" Dean keeps asking, and finally this poor kid is says, “Dude, he ruined the store, and bought beer, toilet paper, jerky and some weird porn. Then he tried to choke me to death when I said there was no more pie." He rolls his eyes. “Can you just make sure he never comes back, please?"

Dean rubs the back of his neck and mumbles an apology. Out in the parking lot, Cas is leaning against the passenger door to the Impala, trying not to look like someone just took the last cookie when Dean comes up to him, grabs him by the belt loops and kisses him silly.

They come up for air after a few minutes, and Cas asks what that was for, and Dean just says, “I can’t believe you bought me porn and beer, dude."

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wants babies. Not sorry.

Cas notices Dean staring.

Every time they go to the park, Dean stares, and he tries to make it look like he’s not. Cas is an expert on staring, so he knows what Dean is doing.

Even he knows it’s creepy and socially unacceptable.

He does his best to distract Dean, to get Dean to refocus his attention elsewhere, and most of the time it works. The trouble is that the things that Cas has in his arsenal that are tried-and-true Dean distractors are inappropriate as well.

Cas puzzles over why Dean stares so much, mulling it over in his mind after Dean has fallen asleep in the evenings. He thinks he knows why Dean’s been so preoccupied with them, and he thinks he might have a solution, but he’s just not sure how to address it.

However, the direct approach has worked in the past, so that’s his plan.

They’re in the park, sitting on one of the benches, and Dean is, once again, staring at the jungle gym, a look of yearning on his face. 

"Dean?" Cas asks.

"Hm?" Dean comes out of his reverie slowly.

"Is that something you want?" Cas nods his head toward the jungle gym, and more specifically, at the father playing with his son. “A child?"

Dean leans against the back of the bench. “What?"

"Every time we come to the park, you stare at the children playing." Can leans close. “I think it bothers some of the parents."

Dean laughs softly and scrubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, Cas. Yeah, it was something I wanted."

"Was?"

"Well," Dean shrugs. “It’s not like we can have kids or anything."

"But if we could?" Cas asks, threading their fingers together. 

Dean looks down at where their hands are clasped together. “Would you want to?"

"Yes," Cas says without hesitation. 

"Really?" Dean’s head pops up and he stares at Cas, who nods. “Me too." He smiles shyly.

Cas leans over and kisses Dean. “Now stop staring at the kids."

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is really sexy when he fights. You know it's true.

Most of the time, Dean doesn’t really get the chance to watch Cas fight. Usually he’s occupied with whatever is attacking him, so he can’t pay attention to the way in which Cas moves.

He gets hints of how graceful Cas is when it’s just the two of them, especially when they’re fooling around, or having sex (he’s working on calling it making love. That’s more Cas’s thing than his). 

When Dean does get the chance to see Cas fight, he’s blown away. He was expecting Cas to be good. He was expecting that Cas’s movements would be precise and controlled.

Dean was not expecting Cas to be fucking hot.

Cas twirls, his trench coat flaring out behind him as he moves from one demon to the next, smiting with the press of a hand against their heads. They go down and he moves onto the next one before they’ve even hit the ground. It’s over almost before it starts.

Dean’s staring and out of breath, and he didn’t move at all during the fight. Cas looks at him, quirking an eyebrow as if to ask ‘what’s up?’ Dean just shakes his head. He grabs Cas’s tie and reels him in to kiss him. He grabs Cas’s ass and presses their hips together, sucking on Cas’s lower lip.

"That was so damn hot, Cas," Dean breathes. Cas chuckles and responds with a roll of his hips.

"Oh my god, you two. Get a room." Sam’s pained voice comes from behind them.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [mishaswhore](http://mishaswhore.tumblr.com)
> 
> _Fallen!Cas get the flu and thinks he's dying. Dean informs him that he'll be fine and helps him ti get better. Right as Cas falls asleep Dean sings 'Hey Jude' to him, the way his mom used to when he was little._

The sound of hacking and coughing from their room makes Dean wince. It’s bad enough that Cas is fallen, but to have to deal with getting the flu on top of it… 

Dean brings the bowl of soup to Cas and sits on the edge of the bed to make sure that Cas actually eats it all. 

“Dean, you don’t have to watch me. I will eat it, I promise.” Cas’s voice is wrecked, darker and even more gravelly and hoarse than usual. His M’s sound more like B’s, and his nose is bright red from having to blow it all the time. His eyes are bright, though a bit glassy still from fever. 

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says. “Just humor me, okay?” He brushes a stray hair out of Cas’s eyes.

Cas eats the soup silently, down to the last drop, and then hands the bowl back over to Dean. “There, see?” He folds his arms.

Dean just chuckles and puts the bowl on his desk. He’ll get it later. He settles down on the bed next to Cas. “You should get some rest.”

Cas huffs. “This is awful. I hate this.”

Dean slings his arm around Cas’s shoulder, pulling the angel closer to him. He kisses the warm, damp forehead. “Yeah, I know,” he says softly.

“Being human is terrible.” Now Cas is fully pouting. 

“Sometimes. It has its moments, though,” Dean says, and his voice is just above a murmur. Cas leans against Dean, and sniffles loudly. Dean tries not to think about snot getting on his t-shirt. It’s not like he can’t do laundry later anyway. 

“Yeah? Like what?” Cas says. His voice is mulish and stubborn now; he’s determined not to find anything good about his new condition.

Dean sinks down, pulling Cas with him. They’re both lying down now, and Cas is resting his head on Dean’s chest. “This. This is nice, being together. Sleeping is good. Kisses are nice.” Cas makes a noise that could be agreement. “Singing.” Dean starts to hum. 

Cas sighs and rearranges his head so the vibrations from Dean’s humming reverberates better. His eyes droop lower and lower as he listens to Dean. He drifts off to sleep just as Dean begins to sing the words. 

“Hey Jude…”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [Lis](http://clotpoleofthelord.tumblr.com) who wanted to see Cas and Dean meeting Captain Jack Harkness.

"Where are we?" Dean asks, looking around. It’s an underground space, wherever they are, and it looks a little bit like a subway.

Cas frowns slightly, his brows furrowing together as he tries to figure it out. “The United Kingdom, I think."

"England? We’re in England? How the fuck did we get to England??"

"Not England, thank you." A bright voice comes from behind them. “This is Wales." A tall, dark haired man with a big grin is standing in the doorway. “And who are you two?"

He’s wearing a blue overcoat and is carrying a gun loosely in his hand at his side. Dean, ever on the alert, pulls his gun out of the back of his jeans and points it at the man. “Who are you?"

"Captain Jack Harkness. And you are…?" He doesn’t raise his gun, doesn’t move into a threatening stance, but Dean can tell that this man, Captain Harkness, is on alert, watching them both like a hawk.

"Winchester. Dean Winchester. This is Cas." Dean jerks his thumb at Cas, who has come to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

Harkness’s brows lift. “Cas? Just Cas?"

A minute shift of Cas’s shoulders indicates a shrug, one that only Dean can read. “My name is Castiel. I am angel of the Lord."

That catches Harkness’s attention. “An angel, huh?" He pushes off the wall and moves closer walking around Dean and Cas in a wide circle. Dean follows him around, not allowing his back to be to this strange man who hasn’t really explained anything. 

"Wanna tell us who you are? Captain Harkness? This doesn’t look like a military installation," Dean says.

"I don’t know that you’re qualified to identify British military installations, are you?" Harkness says, not answering the question. Dean huffs.

Harkness’s circles grow smaller as they repeat until he’s right in front of Dean and Cas. “So what are you two fine gentlemen doing in Wales, then? I doubt you’re here for my enjoyment." He winks. “Though if you are, I really wouldn’t mind."

Dean’s mouth drops open and he shifts so he’s standing partly in front of Cas.

The move isn’t lost on Harkness, who grins again. “Interesting." He examines Cas closely, thinking. “Are you just protecting him, or is there something more there?" 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asks, but he has a suspicion he knows what Harkness is referring to.

"Ah. So he doesn’t know."

Cas frowns again. “If you’re referring to the fact that Dean is in love with me, I do know. Dean just hasn’t said anything about it yet."

The arm holding Dean’s gun drops. “What? What?" He’s sputtering. “What the hell, Cas!?"

"It’s all right, Dean. I love you, too." He takes a moment to glance at Dean and smile lightly before turning his focus on Harkness.

"Would you two like a moment?" Harkness asks, pointing his finger back and forth between them.

"NO!" Dean says.

"Yes," Cas says at the same time.

Harkness laughs at that, and walks over to the stairs. “I’ll give you two a few minutes to work it out. Then we need to figure out how you got here." He leaves them staring at each other.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Katie](http://pastrymisha.tumblr.com) wanted Dean teaching Cas to drive.

“Catch!” Dean tosses his keys to Cas, who catches them deftly.

“What’s this?” Cas asks.

“Keys. I’m going to teach you to drive,” Dean says. He’s pulling on his jacket. “C’mon.”

Cas follows Dean out of the bunker. “I don’t think I need to know how to drive.”

“It’s an important skill, Cas. What if something happens and Sammy and I can’t drive, huh? You need to know how.” He claps Cas on the shoulder.

They get into the car, Cas on the driver’s side and Dean in the passenger seat. Cas eyes the steering wheel critically, pretty sure that this is a bad idea.

It starts out okay, and eventually Cas gets driving in a straight line down, and he smiles widely. Dean smiles too, pleased that he’s managed to elicit a happy response from his friend.

Turns work out okay, too, and Dean thinks that it might be a good idea to try reverse.

It was not a good idea.

After several near accidents and one very mangled rubber trash can, Dean decides to call it a day. He lets Cas drive back to the bunker, figuring that he’s got going forward down, and can at least get them back home.

They get out of the car, and Cas hands the keys back to Dean. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas says, eyes downcast.

“For what?”

“Disappointing you.”

Dean pushes Cas gently against the passenger door of the Impala and kisses him. “No Cas, you didn’t disappoint me.” He kisses Cas again, pressing their chests together. Cas’s hands came to rest on Dean’s hips. “Just takes practice, that’s all.”

Cas laughs. “That explains why you kiss me so much.”

“What?”

“Because you need the practice.” Cas smirks at Dean, who just growls at him and kisses him again. They don’t stop for quite a while.

 


	20. Chapter 20

It comes back to this.

Sammy’s getting better, slowly but surely. They’re still not sure if he’s safe from whatever it was that was affecting him last year, but he’s  _better._  He moves a bit stiffly sometimes, and Dean knows he’s not sleeping very much. But there’s some color in his cheeks and he’s smiling more than he used to. 

Dean even heard Sam arguing with Kevin about some plot point in Doctor Who. That bodes well.

Then there’s Cas.

Who is angry. He’s oh, so angry about what has happened to him that he lashes out. Dean knows that he is not the target of Cas’s anger, but he can be the one to  _take_ that anger. To be there when the anger wears off and Cas is reduced to terrible, body wracking sobs.

Dean’s not sure what Cas needs, or how he can help Cas other than to sit there with him, to rub soothing circles into his back and continue to let him know that, “I’m here, Cas. I got you." 

Cas sits in the library, arms folded over his chest, looking impossibly small in Dean’s clothes - he refuses to go shopping for new, and wouldn’t let Dean throw away the old suit and trench coat, despite the fact that it’s in tatters now, after the long journey back to the Batcave. He stares off into the middle distance, and Dean doesn’t know what he’s thinking.

It comes back to this: Dean has his family. He has Sam, he has Cas, he has Kevin and Charlie. His family’s a little broken right now. But he has them.


	21. Chapter 21

It bugs him for days and days. He can’t quite figure out what it is that’s missing, not at first. He wanders, lost, through thickets and woods and suburbs where he passes the same houses over and over until he finds the bunker. He raps on the door, the metallic clanging echoing within, and nearly collapses with exhaustion into Dean’s arms when the door opens.

But it still bugs him. It’s missing, whatever it is, and the fact that it’s missing settles in like an uncomfortable buzzing beneath his skin.

He doesn’t sleep, not really, instead napping fitfully, jerking awake after only 40 minutes of sleep, sometimes nearly an hour. Never enough. Not nearly enough.

The day he realizes, he wakes up, screaming. Dean rushes in, sliding in his stockinged feet across the concrete floor of the library, and he pulls Cas into his arms without a second thought. Cas screams and screams until he’s hoarse, and then his sobs become ragged moans.

"They’re gone, all of them," he says, and his tears stream down his face onto Dean’s shirt until it’s soaked through. Dean hushes Cas, cupping the back of his head and rocking the two of them back and forth. The rocking motion soothes Cas enough for him to stop his pained mantra, but the tears continue.

He cries until he can’t anymore, feeling wasted and spent, his eyes red and his nose raw. His head aches with the effort of the crying. Dean continues to hold him long after the crying stops, and for that Cas is grateful.

Finally, Dean stands up, grasping Cas’s hand and pulling him down the hallway. They go into Dean’s room, and Dean changes his own shirt and then helps Cas get out of his clothing. First the trench coat, which Dean folds neatly and places on top of the desk, then the suit jacket and tie. He unbuttons Cas’s shirt and removes it, tossing it toward the laundry basket. Then come the pants and the dark socks with the hole in the corner of the big left toe. 

Dean rifles through his drawers and pulls out a pair of pants and an old t-shirt, handing them to Cas, who just stands in the middle of the room in his boxers, head throbbing, uncertain what to do with the clothes. Dean sighs softly and helps Cas into the pants and shirt, and then draws him toward the bed.

They lie down, and Dean scoots close to Cas, spooning him from behind, wrapping his arms around Cas’s front and pulling him close.

"Wanna tell me about it, Cas?" Dean whispers after he’s turned off the light. They’re lying in the dark now, and Dean can feel the fast  _thumpthumpthump_  of Cas’s heart underneath his palm.

Cas draws in a shuddery breath. “They’re gone," he replies, his voice barely audible. “I can’t hear the host anymore."

Dean squeezes Cas a little more tightly, as if he’s trying to hold Cas together through sheer force of will. 

Cas shifts slightly, and then says, “I won’t be able to hear your prayers anymore either, Dean."

Dean hesitates before pressing a kiss to the nape of Cas’s neck. “Then I’ll just have to make sure you’re in earshot when I pray to you."

"Mhm," Cas says, his eyes sliding shut as he drifts off to sleep. 

"I’ve got you, Cas," Dean says.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas stays. Sexytimes.

When Cas stays, it surprises Dean.

Even after all the yelling, the angry words forced out between gritted teeth, Dean hadn’t actually expected Cas to be there in the morning.

Even after the heartfelt confessions, the desperate, needy kisses pressed against smooth, warm skin, there was a small part of Dean that expected to wake up alone in his bed. 

Instead, Dean wakes up to dark hair tickling his nose, and the feel of Cas’s lips ghosting across his chest, thumbs rubbing against his hips. He inhales sharply, moving from sleeping to awake faster than he’d thought was even possible. Dean keeps his eyes closed; he is  _awake_  in all senses of the word, skin like fire beneath Cas’s mouth, the press of Cas’s palms at his side. 

He grabs at the sheets when Cas sucks a nipple into his mouth, groans as he feels Cas’s cock, heavy and leaking against his thigh. His own is painfully hard already, and Dean is desperate for Cas to touch him. Cas smiles and Dean can feel it against the skin of his chest. 

Cas’s attention does not wander from Dean, nor does he move despite Dean’s desperate attempts to get him to do so. Cas squeezes Dean’s hip lightly and just continues to lave at first one nipple and then the next. He slides downward slowly, sightseeing along the way, trailing his tongue along the smooth skin of Dean’s stomach. 

"Cas," Dean murmurs, and he rolls his hips upward. He needs more, much more than what Cas is giving him.

Cas teases, his hair brushing Dean’s chest and stomach, his lips and tongue sucking and nipping as he moves lower and lower. Just when Dean thinks Cas is finally going to get this show on the road, Cas moves upward again, and Dean groans. His skin is over-sensitized now, it’s almost too much, and he’s babbling nonsense words and profanities.

The teasing becomes the norm, though, and so Dean jumps when Cas’s mouth, wet, hot and fucking perfect, slides over the tip of his cock. Cas takes Dean’s heavy weight on his tongue and sucks down, hollowing his cheeks. It’s glorious and Dean’s so, so close. Cas pulls away, but before Dean can groan his disappointment, Cas is back again, sucking Dean down all the way. Dean can feel himself bumping against the back of Cas’s throat, and he can’t help the small thrusting motions his hips make.

Cas slides his hands beneath Dean to cup his ass cheeks in his palms, holding Dean still. It’s when the tip of Cas’s finger skates around his entrance that Dean loses it, coming in Cas’s mouth with a loud groan that he’s certain Sam and Kevin could hear. Dean couldn’t care less, though, as Cas milks Dean through the rest of his orgasm and then slides off of Dean’s cock with a soft popping sound. 

Dean pulls Cas up to kiss him, tasting himself on Cas’s lips, tongue and the roof of Cas’s mouth. Dean’s dick, though well attended, stirs slightly in interest at the sensation. 

"Morning," Dean says softly. 

"Morning," Cas responds, a smug look on his face, lips puffy and reddened from the recent activity. “My turn tomorrow?"


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Chris](http://archiveofourown.org/users/deans1911/pseuds/deans1911) asked for sex with jello.  
>  I have no explanation for this.

"Dean, what  _is_ this stuff? It’s wobbly. And an unnatural shade of red."

"Dude, that’s jello. You can eat it, or," Dean coughs, “do other stuff with it."

Cas gives Dean a long look, one that says that he knows damn well what Dean is up to, but he’s not going to put up with any of Dean’s weird ideas today. “And you’ve brought this substance into our bedroom because…"

"I thought we could, you know, experiment."

"Hm." Cas contemplates the gelatinous substance in the bowl in front of him. “Or, how about I promise to do that thing with my tongue while I’m doing that thing with my fingers, and you take this stuff away?"

It takes Dean all of ten seconds to consider this. He grabs the bowl and dashes out of the room. “Deal!"


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schmoopiest schmoop to ever schmoop.

Cas has taken to slipping away for a long walk in the afternoons. He tells Dean he _needs_  to clear his head,  _needs_  to be out in the open,  _needs_  to feel the breeze on his skin. 

Every experience is different now, somehow; smells are at once stronger and weaker, and he can no longer hear the thrum of creation beneath the surface of the planet, or the distinct  _thumpthump_  of a human heart. 

So Dean doesn’t really think much of it when Cas slips away on one Saturday afternoon when the weather is crisp and cool, the sky a bright clear blue that’s only possible in mid fall when the leaves are just beginning to fall from the trees. 

Dean continues with the task he and Sam had set themselves: cataloging all the materials in the Batcave, cross referencing the new information with everything they already knew, bringing in Bobby’s old hunting journals. Sam’s been working with Charlie and Kevin to put it all into a huge database, and Garth is acting like a gigantic hunter switchboard. He digs up cases and pairs up hunters who he thinks will work well together and sends them on their way.

Several hours later, Dean’s covered head to toe in dust, and his eyes are watering, and he’s sneezing his head off. He heads back to his room - no,  _their_ room - and grabs a shower. And yeah, it gives Dean a secret thrill when he can use words like “theirs” when it comes to him and Cas.

When Dean returns from his shower„ Cas is perched on the edge of their bed, and he’s got something in his hands that he’s fiddling with, a small box. 

“Whatcha got there, Cas?” Dean leans down and Cas tilts his face up for the kiss. He tries to pull away, but Cas has palmed the back of his head and is pulling him close, forcing Dean to topple into his lap. Even fallen, Cas still has enough of his old angelic strength that he can pretty much manhandle Dean any which way he wants, and Dean is  _perfectly okay_  with that.

“I got you something,” Cas says, but he’s still holding onto the box, has it in a death grip, actually, the skin on his knuckles turning white.

“Yeah? You gonna give it to me, or do I have to guess?” Dean buries his nose in Cas’s neck and inhales, loving the smell of him, musk and honey, some exotic incense and the outdoors.

“I know that it’s a human tradition,” Cas begins, and he stops himself, thinks for a minute. Dean senses that Cas has something he wants to say, and he doesn’t interrupt. “I know that you say that you don’t need anything traditional, but I want you to have this.” He thrusts the box into Dean’s hand. “It’s symbolic, but I want you to know that I mean it. It’s forever.”

Dean stares at Cas for a second, and then looks down at the box, his mouth suddenly dry. He thinks he knows what this is, and he’s surprised, no, not just surprised, astonished, stunned, that Cas would think of this. It’s so….  _human_. 

Dean opens the box slowly, and it makes a small creaking sound. Nestled inside are two silver rings with an infinity symbol etched into each of them.

“Cas,” Dean says, and his voice is rough with emotion. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you want for us to wear them?” Cas asks, and his voice is quiet, a little bit shaky. Dean just nods. Cas takes the rings out of the box and gives one to Dean. The other he slides onto Dean’s left ring finger. Dean does the same for Cas.

Cas kisses Dean then, and it’s a little sloppy and a lot wet and salty because it turns out that Dean is a big giant sap and he’s crying. Just a little bit, mind. 

“What made you decide…” Dean asks after a moment.

“I’ve always known, Dean. I didn’t have the chance to tell you before.” 

Dean has no proper response for that, so he just kisses Cas again and threads their fingers together, the rings making a clinking noise as they knock into each other.

“Me too, Cas.”

Inspired by [this](http://deanhugchester.tumblr.com/post/51088404129) post.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I started out thinking about how Dean and Cas might appear to someone else, not necessarily Sam or even Kevin or Charlie, but a civilian, if you will. That’s not exactly where this story went, but I’m sharing anyway.

He walks into her bookstore all flirt and swagger, the collar of his blue jacket turned up. He’s incredibly handsome, bright green eyes and a ready smile; he looks like he was born to flirt. Behind him is another man, messy dark hair and a partial frown practically etched onto his forehead. He’s dressed in a faded t-shirt that hangs loosely on his slim frame, and the jeans he’s wearing are dangerously low on his hips. Like his companion, he’s very attractive. There’s an awful lot of attractive between the two of them, and Mabel wonders how they managed to win the genetic lottery.

The one in the blue jacket comes up to the desk with a big sexy grin. “Mornin’! I’m Mabel, how can I help you?" she says, mirroring his smile. Mabel knows her smile has nowhere near the wattage this man’s does, but she’s gotten enough compliments from folks to know it ain’t all that bad either.

He leans on the counter as if he’s got a secret to share. “Looking for some history." He pauses. “And some Kerouac." 

Mabel steps out from behind the counter and leads them to the history section, and points out where they can find Kerouac. 

As she’s walking away, she hears Green Eyes say, “I’m gonna go check out the Kerouac. You okay here, Cas?"

In a surprisingly deep rumble, the frowny one - Cas - says, “Yes, Dean, I can examine books on my own for five minutes." The tone is exasperated, but also fond, as if this is a variation on a conversation they’ve had before. Green eyes - Dean - smiles as he walks away.

Mabel returns to the front, but watches the two men carefully. Not because she doesn’t trust them, not because she thinks they’re going to cause trouble, despite their rough edges, but more because they are the most interesting thing to happen in her quiet bookstore in a long time. Dean doesn’t spend too long in the literature section, coming back with a slim volume in his hands, while Cas is still perusing the first case in the history section. Mabel’s proud of her bookstore - Lebanon may not be a giant metropolis, but she keeps a tidy, well-stocked store with a variety of interesting books. 

She’s not really trying to eavesdrop (yes, she is), and the bookstore is empty except for the three of them, so she overhears their conversation.

"Find anything, Cas?" Dean asks, coming to stand behind the other man.

Cas trails his fingers over the spines of a couple of volumes. “There are a few that are interesting, but I haven’t made up my mind." Dean makes a humming noise and looks over Cas’s shoulder at the bookshelf. He reaches around Cas and pulls a book off the shelf. 

"How about this one?" He holds on to it, displaying the front cover. Cas nods slowly, and Dean flips the book over so Cas can read the blurb on the back. 

Cas has stepped back toward Dean, leaning into the slightly taller man, and Dean rests his chin on Cas’s shoulder. Their conversation is quieter, for their ears only. Oh. It’s like that, Mabel thinks. She clicks open an inventory file on her computer and works on it quietly until the two men finish choosing their books. There’s soft laughter from the history section, and one outburst that she doesn’t quite understand:

"Dude, you can’t have been at all of them!" with an answering rumble. 

They come up with their selections. “You boys just traveling through?" Mabel asks as she cashes them out.

Dean shakes his head. “Nope, we moved in on the other side of town. Been here a couple of months, but things have been pretty crazy, haven’t had the chance to explore much." He holds out his hand. “Name’s Dean. This is Cas." 

Dean’s hand is warm and his handshake is firm, but not so firm that it’s painful. “Mabel," she says. Cas holds out his hand after a moment; his hand is very warm, and there’s an underlying power to it that Mabel hadn’t expected, not just physical strength, but something else. He murmurs that it’s nice to meet her and then smiles, which completely transforms his face from exceedingly handsome to breathtakingly beautiful. Mabel stammers a greeting back. 

Dean winks at her. “Yeah, he does that to me too, sometimes." Mabel blushes and puts the books in a paper bag, which she hands to Dean.

"We’ve got a book club going on Wednesdays, if you’re interested. We’re working our way through Shakespeare right now, but we’re thinking about reading Dante next. You’re welcome to join any time."

Dean and Cas exchange a look, one that Mabel cannot read at all. “Thanks, but I think we’ve had enough Dante for several lifetimes," Dean says in a stilted voice. Cas shifts his body so he’s a little bit closer to Dean, and the tension in Dean’s shoulders eases just a touch. “Maybe after you guys finish with Dante and move onto something else." He holds up the bag of books. “Thanks for these, we’ll see you around." 

They brush hands as they leave the store, the bell over the door jangling merrily. When they get out onto the street, Mabel can see them having a brief conversation, Cas’s hand on Dean’s left shoulder, and then they head off down the street. Mabel makes a mental note to talk to the book club about choosing something other than Dante for their next read. Those two seem really interesting, and Mabel prides herself on drawing people out and getting them to become part of the community. 

"Always nice to have new folks around here," she says to herself, turning back to her inventory.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [dopamineandnorepinephrine](http://dopamineandnorepinephrine.tumblr.com) asked for brother fluff about fifty years ago.

They spend about a week going through various boxes in one of the storerooms. Charlie came up with an amazing cataloging system and Sam’s been geeking out over it pretty much nonstop. The end of every day Sam and Dean end up sprawled out on chairs outside the bunker, enjoying being in the clean air. The amount of dust in the bunker storage rooms is mind boggling.

Friday afternoon finds Sam and Dean enjoying the unusually warm spring day, sitting in their chairs, a cooler of beer between the two of them. Dean pops the top on two bottles and hands one to Sam. They clink bottles and each take a long draft of the cold drink, relishing the feel of the cold drink on their parched throats.

They sit silently, just enjoying each other’s company. Living in the bunker has been a really interesting experience for the two of them. For the first time in their lives they aren’t living directly out of each other’s pockets, and they aren’t constantly under each other’s feet. It’s incredibly freeing, because they can actually walk away from each other if they need to, but still hang out together if they want.

Friday nights are movie nights. That was a tradition they began a few weeks ago, and they’ve been raiding the discount bin at the Target, getting the five dollar DVDs and working their way through a collection of  mostly pretty awful movies. The ones that are almost too painful to sit through have become impromptu drinking games.

They had a bagful of new DVDs waiting for them in the bunker, a cooler of beer between them, and a sunny afternoon ahead of them. They were (currently) demon free, tablet free, and maybe, just maybe, for once, worry free.

Dean’s looking the most relaxed that Sam has ever seen him, and he’s thinking that has something to do with the fact that Cas has been hanging around a bit more lately. Sam smiles when he thinks about it, because as careful as Dean and Cas have been, they’re just not that subtle. Sam’s happy for Dean - they’re good together. 

Sam hesitates for the briefest second before deciding that it is finally time to bring this up. He’s been wanting to talk to Dean about it for weeks, and he’s just about worked up the courage to actually say what he’s been wanting to.

He takes a healthy swig of his beer and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Hey, Dean," he says.

"Yeah?"

"I’ve been thinking about going back to school lately, and I wanted to run something by you."

"Yeah?" This time the word is hesitant, cautious.

"KU is about 4 hours drive from here. I talked to their admissions guys, and I could have all but my last semesters’ credits transferred. I need to take 3 more courses to graduate. I want to finish my degree, Dean."

Dean opens his mouth to say something, but Sam holds up his hand. “No, let me finish, okay?" Sam waits for Dean to nod, and then he pushes ahead. “If I finish my degree, then I’m thinking about law school - KU’s isn’t bad, but there’s also a good forensics program at Nebraska Wesleyan, which is even closer. The forensics might help us with hunting."

Sam takes a deep breath. “I need you to know two things, okay? I’m not asking your permission. I want to do this, but I need you to know that I’m coming back. I’m going to finish up school, I’m going to do the forensics thing, or the law school thing, and I’m going to come back." He gestures to the bunker behind him. “Seriously? This is like the best thing that’s happened to us. We can do it right, and save all kinds of people." 

Sam stops talking, and waits nervously for Dean to jump into his normal mode of defensive reaction. Dean takes a swallow of his beer, then another, and then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s a great idea, Sammy."

A startled laugh escapes Sam. “Yeah?"

"Yeah, man, that’s awesome. You’re right, you should finish school. And the forensics stuff, man, we could kick some serious investigative ass if you did that." Dean pauses. “But dude, if you start talking like those douche procedural cop shows…"

Sam laughs again, a full belly laugh, holding his hands up. “No worries, man."

Dean claps Sam on the shoulder. “You should totally do it. Cas and I can hold down the fort ‘til you get back."

"Okay." Sam grins. “Yeah, okay. That’s… that’s awesome, Dean. Thanks."

Dean tilts his bottle in salute to Sam, and drains the rest of his beer.  "You better be first in your class though. No sense in wasting that brain on anything less."

"Wouldn’t dream of it, man," Sam says.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 9 speculation, first ep.

Cas shows up at the bunker with a bakery box of pie. Dean eyes him warily and then lets him in. Cas hands over the pie (blueberry), asks after Sam, and Dean pulls Cas into a monster hug. He whispers in Cas’s ear, “I missed you, you stupid son of a bitch," and Cas actually hugs Dean back. Then when they pull apart, Cas smiles, a small thing that only flirts with the corners of his lips and says that he missed Dean too. Dean nearly drops the pie in his nervousness, but he manages to put it aside and then he’s dragging Cas toward him by his tie. They kiss for what seems like hours, days, or maybe just seconds - both not enough and too much all at once - and then they’re fumbling down the hall of the bunker, shedding clothes as they go.

They fuck, hard and fast, desperate and needy. Then later, slow and soporific, loving and gentle, with whispered words of love and affection. They stay locked in Dean’s room for almost a full day, when Sam bangs on the door and demands that they at least come up for air, for crying out loud, and they really ought to find a way to be more quiet anyway, he wouldn’t be surprised if people in Nebraska heard them. Dean and Cas just laugh softly and kiss each other until Sam pounds on the door. Again.

Of course, Dean left the pie by the door, but Kevin brought it into the kitchen. He only had once slice, but it was pretty darn good.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Lis](http://clotpoleofthelord.tumblr.com) wanted Cas getting hugs after getting hurt on a hunt.

"Cas! Look out!" Dean hollers as the demon sends one of the beams flying through the air. There’s a chilling thudding sound, and if Dean didn’t have his own demon to deal with, he’d whip around to make sure Cas is okay. As it is, his own hands are full right now.

Sam’s running through the exorcism as fast as he can go, which these days, is pretty damn fast, and it’s not long before the two demons are exorcised and have left behind the bodies that they only moments before had possessed. 

Dean hurries over to where he saw Cas last, and his heart sinks a bit as he sees the heel of a brown boot - one belonging to the very pair he and Cas picked out earlier that week. 

On closer inspection, though, it appears that Cas was just knocked to the ground, not knocked out, and not injured. He’s moving about carefully, trying to get his bearings, and Dean helps him up.

"You okay, man?" Dean asks. Cas nods and holds his hand up to his head for a moment, a squinchy look on his face, one that Dean just loves, and then he nods again, much more sure and certain.

"Yes, I’m fine, Dean. And you?" Cas asks, and his voice is strong. 

"Yeah, good." Dean feels light and so relieved that he almost doesn’t realize what he’s doing until his arms around wrapped around the angel, pulling him in tight. Cas makes a soft squeaking noise as Dean holds him, but his arms rise up to Dean’s back of their own accord.

They stand like that, in the middle of the abandoned warehouse for several long moments, until Sam clears his throat loudly.

"Uh, guys?" 

Dean pulls back slightly, Cas still in his arms, and his eyes still very firmly fixed on the angel and nods in Sam’s direction. “Yeah, Sammy?"

"Maybe you could do that later? We need to uh, deal with the civilians." Sam tilts his chin at the two formerly possessed. Dean blushes, the pink crawling up his face to the tips of his ears, and he steps back from Cas completely. He leans over to help up one of the victims, while Sam helps the other. Cas takes up the rear as they exit the warehouse.

He’s smiling to himself, and there’s a slight spring in his step.

Maybe Dean will kiss him next.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [girlinrowb](http://girlinrowb.tumblr.com) asked _Destiel…NSFW ok but if you make me bawl like Twist & Shout did then cookie for you! =) _

They never do figure it out, not really. There are about a thousand missed opportunities, a thousand times they could say it to each other, but they never do. It’s not because Dean doesn’t want to tell Cas, or that Cas doesn’t know how to tell Dean. It was always just the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong apocalypse. So they spent the rest of their lives in love with each other, but they never had the chance to tell each other, not until the very end. And when Cas finally tells Dean he loves him, Dean smiles tiredly and says, “I know."


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [notworththetrouble12](http://notworththetrouble12.tumblr.com) asked _I’ll take some Charlie/Dean BrOTP, please._

"Now are you sure that you can do this?" Charlie asks for what seems like the thousandth time. 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yes. I said I would, and I will."

"Just checking. Don’t get your knickers in a twist."

Dean grins and winks at Charlie. He heaves himself up into the saddle and takes the proffered lance, lining it up carefully. He’s never jousted before, but figures there’s a first time for everything, right?


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [captaincupcakedreams](http://captaincupcakedreams.tumblr.com) asked _Destiel. Sexy naughty Destiel pleaaase <3_

Cas likes to do many, many things to Dean. He loves the sounds Dean makes when Cas’s fingers are working their way inside, curling and then pulling out again slowly. He loves to watch as he sinks into Dean’s ass one inch at a time, Dean moaning his name as the tight heat surrounds him. He loves fucking Dean so slowly, so torturously slowly while he leans his forehead against Dean’s, his short breaths brushing hot and moist against his cheek. He loves that boneless, blissed out feeling he gets when they’re finished, and Dean murmurs soft words of praise to Cas. But more than anything, he loves just cupping Dean’s face between his hands and kissing Dean, his mouth, his cheeks, his forehead, his eyes; all to let Dean know that he is cherished.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [dopamineandnorepinephrine](http://dopamineandnorepinephrine.tumblr.com) asked _CHARLIE DEAN BROMANCE PLEASE PLEASE????_

"I got you something," Dean says.

Charlie quirks an eyebrow. “What’d you get me?" She refrains from bouncing up and down. Just.

Dean hands her a small box. She examines it carefully from all angles, even shaking it a little bit to see if she can figure out what’s inside. She gives Dean a look, who just gestures to the box, indicating she should open it.

When she does, there’s a key nestled inside.

"Is this?"

"Key to the bunker, yeah. Figured I’d make you an official Woman of Letters."

Charlie launches herself at Dean, throwing her arms around him. “Thank you," she says into his shoulder.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Sarah](http://deathbycoldopen.tumblr.com) asked for Destiel.

Cas starts doing the crossword puzzle in the paper. Dean laughs, amazed that people still even get the paper, but it seems to make Cas happy, so he doesn’t laugh too much.

Cas works his way through the local paper’s puzzles on a regular basis, usually finishing them pretty quickly, but occasionally needing some help with the popular culture clues.

Then he moves up to doing the New York Times crossword puzzles. He does them in ink, and he does them every day, Monday through Sunday.

And Dean doesn’t mind, not really, until they become a sort of obsession for Cas. It’s to the point that Cas will go out on Sunday mornings (not too early, mind, because Cas is still not a morning person, no matter how loud the siren song of the puzzle is) to get the entire New York Times Sunday paper (which is huge, have you seen that thing?), and he’ll sit at the table in the kitchen nibbling on the end of the pen working out the clues.

Well, this is the last straw for Dean, because as far as he’s concerned, the whole point to Sunday mornings is lazing about in bed, maybe just cuddling (YES, CUDDLING dammit), maybe having sex, but definitely NOT GETTING UP AND GOING TO BUY THE PAPER. 

The day that Dean realizes that he can get the crossword puzzle online for Cas and print it out? 

Best. Day. Ever.

Because he can usually get Cas to stay in bed a little longer on Sunday mornings, if Cas knows that the puzzle’s waiting for him at the push of a button.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had been intrigued by a post going around tumblr about Dean praying sexy stuff to Cas. This is what I came up with.

"I prayed to you, every night!"

He said that once, in Purgatory, and he did. Dean had prayed to Cas every night, and Cas had heard Dean. 

Dean still prays to Cas.

Cas still hears Dean. Sometimes Cas wishes Dean wouldn’t pray to him.

Dean’s prayers are… distracting.

"Need you in me, Cas," he’ll say, and his voice will take on that whining quality that tells Cas Dean’s close, he’s almost there, almost ready to come. Cas rolls his eyes, because there’s usually not much he can do about it at this point.

Other times, Dean’ll tell Cas what he’s doing, how his fingers are inside himself, crooked at just the right angle, but, “It’s still not enough, Cas, it’s still not you," and Cas’s attention will be completely gone from what he was doing. Dean knows what’s going on, the little shit, he’s completely aware of how he’s affecting Cas. He knows that it annoys Cas because it’s not like at that moment, Cas can do anything about it. Dean does it anyway.

"Thinking about the way you suck me off, Cas, the way you move your tongue," Dean will say. “How you’ve got me deep throated, and then you pull off and suck on my balls, fuck Cas."

Or, “Want you to fuck me slow, Cas, get in me real deep and just move your hips in those little circles, Cas. Fuck, I love the way you do that."

Cas just has to listen, just has to take it, and the other angels, most of them will politely ignore Cas at this point, because it’s not like they don’t know. Cas gets a slightly manic look in his eye, and he’ll clench his fists, his nails biting into his palms, and he’ll be thinking about all the ways in which he’s going to get his revenge on Dean. 

The problem is that when Cas does show up, he can’t hold himself back, he’s wound so tightly from all of Dean’s prayers, his ideas, that he’s got Dean naked and face down, ass up before he can practically think, one hand lubed up and the other holding the back of Dean’s neck, and he’s working his fingers in Dean one at a time.

Dean pushes back against Cas’s hand, and Cas squeezes Dean’s neck gently, a warning, and Dean goes still just like Cas wants him to. Cas leans over Dean’s back, finally pushing his cock in slowly, mouthing at the space where Dean’s neck and shoulder meets, reveling in the noises that Dean makes the further in Cas goes. 

And when Cas is balls deep in Dean, and Dean’s making those tiny little whimpering noises, the ones Cas loves to hear so much, that’s when Cas won’t be able to hold himself back, snapping his hips, powerfully driving into Dean, their flesh slapping together, echoing in the room, and Dean just takes it, pushing back against Cas when Cas plows in, desperate for more, needing to feel Cas in every cell of his body.

They come, one after the other, and Cas collapses on top of Dean, both of them breathing heavily.

"Welcome home, Cas," Dean says laughing softly.

"Mmm," Cas says back, thinking the next time it’ll be slower. The next time he’ll do all those things Dean prayed to him about. Knowing that there will be new things to contemplate the next time he goes away.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea of Cas wanting to try everything when he’s human. 
> 
> Ice cream cones.
> 
> Going on roller coasters.
> 
> Cologne.
> 
> Can you imagine that conversation?

"Cas, what is that smell?" 

"It’s cologne, Dean. Do you like it? All the advertisements seem to show that this will make me very popular."

"Uh…"

"I picked this one because it reminded me of you, Dean. It kind of smells like leather and sandalwood."

"Um…"

"But I think I may have put too much on. I couldn’t smell it at first, so I put a little more on, and then…"

"Cas, we’re about to go out on a hunt. The demon’s gonna smell you coming a mile away."

"I doubt that any demon has olfactory perception that is that refined."

"Cas…"

"But I understand your point. I will go and shower."

"Wait. No. Just…"

"Just what, Dean?"

"Well, I kinda like it on you."

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"I’m… well, I’m smelling you. You smell good Cas. Maybe… maybe just put less on next time?"

"All right, Dean."


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was breaking in a new journal, and this is what happened.

Dean never tells Cas he loves him. Not in so many words, not once. Dean is a man of action, not of words, and flowery language is not his thing.

However, everyday he shows Cas how much he loves him.

It starts with forgiveness - when Cas shows up at the bunker, scrawny, exhausted and oh, so human. Not knowing where to turn, he’d headed toward Lebanon, KS, uncertain of his reception, uncertain if he’d be welcomed or turned away.

Dean’s first profession of love was to bring Cas inside, clean him up and feed him.

Cas stayed, not because he had no other choice, but because he wanted to.

Dean showed Cas he loved him by carving a space for him in his heart - one that had always been there, one labeled “family". Expanded and more populated than it had been in a long time (since 1983), the family space in Dean’s heart was a exclusive club.

And it became clear it was no longer the right spot for Cas.

Dean showed Cas he loved him by kissing him in the dark, after a good hunt gone bad. Dean baked Cas pie, cleared out half his dresser, and let Cas steal the blankets. Dean showed Cas he loved him by holding onto him when he had nightmares, and when he didn’t.

Dean assumes Cas knows he loves him, operates on the assumption that he doesn’t have to say anything.

Cas, who was often confused by the contrariness of human behavior (why do one thing when you clearly mean the opposite?), was never confused by Dean’s lack of words. The first act of forgiveness was louder than a shout, and Cas does his best to show Dean that he, too, is loved.


	37. Chapter 37

One day Sam’s in a thrift shop, and he finds an “I wuv hugz" t-shirt in adult size, and he buys it as a gag gift for Dean. Dean sort of flips Sam off, but likes the shirt anyway. He never wears it (that Sam sees), but one day, late fall, Cas comes out of Dean’s room in the morning, and he’s wearing the “I wuv hugz" shirt and a pair of boxers.

And that’s how Sam finds out Cas and Dean are sleeping together.


	38. Chapter 38

Dean and Cas being silly and fooling around one night, Dean’s telling Cas about awful pick up lines.

"Hey, baby, what’s your sign?"

"If I told you you had a great body, would you hold it against me?"

"Baby, your feet must be tired, because you’ve been running through my mind all day."

And they’re laughing like loons, giggling, really, because it’s so silly, but then Dean says, tugging on his shirt, “You know what this is?" and Cas just raises an eyebrow, waiting for Dean’s response, and Dean says, “Boyfriend material."

And Cas gets kind of serious, and looks at Dean for a while, and then leans over to kiss him and says, “You’re right."

Dean’s kind of stunned for a second, because what just happened there, and then he grins and goes with it, because the whole conversation was ridiculous to begin with, so he kisses Cas back.


End file.
